Escape From Salem's Wrath
by Elemental Fantasy 13
Summary: Salem, 1692. Alice, a local witch, is forced to run. Magic is magic, even if you wouldn't touch the darker arts with a ten foot stick. When the town comes for her, she's left with little choice but to flee. But she doesn't do it alone. One-shot. USUK. Fem England. Rated for my paranoia.


**I know, I know, another random one-shot. But rest assured that I _am_ working on the other, longer stories. I'm just waiting until they're complete so I can update at my discretion. Until then, please continue to enjoy my random plot bunnies. :)**

 **Enjoy!**

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Alice's hands shook as she stuffed her spell book into her satchel, then ran out into the kitchen. She wrapped a loaf of bread and some cheese in a cloth, adding them to the bag and closing it firmly. Until now, she'd feared little. Why should she? She was one of the most powerful witches this side of the Atlantic. It was why her family had moved on as soon as she was of age, they were in the mood for fresh territory and it was never a safe mix to have too many powerful magic workers in one place.

She was donning her cloak when the kitchen door opened, sending a jolt of fear through her chest. It only lasted a heartbeat, until she recognized the man slipping into her kitchen. Fear turned to regret. She didn't have many, leaving this place behind. Salem had gone mad, in every sense of the word. The local witches had grown too bold. They only had a few sparks, they were nothing compared to what Alice possessed, but it was enough. Thanks to that Abigail Williams brat Alice was forced to run from her home of nearly two decades.

"Alfred, what-

"They're coming," he hissed, trotting out of the kitchen to check out the front window.

Alice felt her heart sink. "What? Now? But they just hung-

"Yes, but they don't plan to stop. The Magistrate has the bit between his teeth now, they've caught their stride. They're going to come after everyone that has so much as a rumor of a rumor about 'em."

He came back into the kitchen, face grim. It hit Alice that he had his own bag over one shoulder, a rifle slung over his back. He was still wearing work clothes, but he'd donned his thick hide and sheepskin jacket, which didn't make any sense unless...

"What are you...you can't come with me. They'll spare you," she protested, though she hated to say it. They'd managed to keep it quiet, at her insistence. Alice might attend church, keep her head down, only perform benevolent spells that could go unnoticed, but people seemed to sense something was off about her. Meanwhile, Alfred was the eldest son of one of the most profitable blacksmiths in the area. He was good at the work, he had his own business, he was well liked, handsome, he would never be suspected. The only thing about him that raised eyebrows was the fact he was still unmarried.

"I don't care. I never wanted to stay here anyway. It's too uptight, too small. Them going insane is the perfect excuse to leave," he urged, coming back over to her. "Alice, they were on their way from the square before they even took Mary down from the noose. We don't have long. I have horses, money, we can make it."

"Where did you get the horses?" Alice protested.

Alfred caught her hand, pulling her from the house. "Mattie bought 'em, on the condition I'd write whenever we got to where we were going."

Sure enough, two horses stood waiting in the yard behind her house. They looked healthy, strong. Mathew, Alfred's slightly younger twin brother, was the only person who knew about them. He'd chosen well. Both were saddled and bridled, one with packs strapped to the back, both with saddlebags and a water skin hanging from the saddle horns. Alice assumed the extra packs were Alfred's, though one looked like it was covered in soot. His blacksmith's gear, she realized. Even more interesting, a second pouch was strapped within easy reach. What looked like not one but two flintlock pistols were inside. What had he done, raided his father's stores?

"How did you this together so quickly?" she asked as he checked the girths.

"I had a hunch. I mean, it'd be stupid not to think they'd come for you sooner or later, I just didn't think they'd do it so quickly. They normally celebrate after they hang someone they think is a witch, not go after the next one on the list. I was going to come by tonight, but then I heard the mob. You ready?"

Alice stepped toward the horse, but hesitated. "Are you certain you want to do this? You're throwing away everything, and for what?"

Alfred had stuffed his bag into one of the saddle packs, strapping the rifle atop them. That done, he stepped back over to her, taking her face in his hands. "I'm dead certain," he murmured, kissing her gently. "You might be a witch, but you're not evil, Alice Kirkland. I love you, and I had every intention of marrying you even before this town went to hell. Now get on the blasted horse before they get here and add you to their dead."

With one last kiss, Alice was pushed over to the nearest horse. She grabbed the saddle, putting a foot in the stirrup and hoisting herself up. She had ridden a few times, thank God, just enough that she felt confident enough not to fall off right away.

She twisted to strap her satchel to the back of the saddle, but froze when she heard a rumble of voices, eyes widening. Her head snapped around to stare at Alfred as he turned his own mount around. Mouth set, eyes grim, he asked, "You ready?"

"For what?"

"The Magistrate is the only one on horseback. It'll take time for the others to get saddled up. If we hurry, we can put enough distance between us for them to lose the trail. The only one of 'em that can track is Tony, and he sure ain't gonna help."

Before Alice could comment, Alfred barked, "Yah!", urging his mount into a gallop. She followed his lead, swinging her horse's head around to circle the house, matching his speed. Sure enough, they were coming up the narrow road to her secluded home, armed with various weapons. She saw torches, a few pitchforks, some scythes, not to mention several muskets with bayonets. Alice wavered, but Alfred urged his mount even faster.

Lips moving, Alice lifted the hand not clutching the reins, fingertips tingling as she threw a protective spell over them. It would give her away, but she didn't care. Alfred's reckless charge had caught them by surprise, but it wouldn't last long, and they were still fifty feet from her door anyway.

Seeing her work magic, and unable to see what it was she was doing, the mob scrambled to put as much room between themselves and the fleeing riders as they could. Some were screaming, others were shouting, most of the women shrieking in horror.

Only a few brave souls tried to stop them. They made it to within a yard or so before they smacked into her shield, hitting the muddy road hard. Alice heard the muskets fire, the explosions echoing through the twilight, but none of their ammunition hit the mark. It was hard enough to hit a target with the things unless you were a practiced shot, never mind a moving one when you stood in the middle of chaos. Besides, it hadn't escaped Alice's attention that the more skilled hunters weren't in their ranks. It was nice to know _some_ of the town still remained sane.

Once they were out of range, Alice dropped the shield, reaching up to pull up her cloak's hood. "You're a reckless fool, Jones!" she called.

Alfred laughed, turning to give her a grin. "What's the point of life if you don't live it, Ally?"

Alice sighed. Honestly she was still scared, how could he laugh in a time like this? It would be less than an hour before they could get back to town and saddle up, but if they rode hard they could put distance between them before then. If they alternated walking and trotting they could make Charlestown by sunrise, they could be in Cambridge by the next day's end.

Something occurred to her, but Alice decided to save the question until they weren't galloping full steam ahead to ask it. This ended up being a longer wait than she'd anticipated. Alfred was being more cautious now, waiting until they were several miles out of Salem's boarders to slow to a walk. Even then, it was only to give the horses a rest and light the lone lantern he'd brought. Considering he was normally a bit scatterbrained, it seemed he'd thought of most everything.

Urging her mount alongside his, Alice asked, "Where _are_ we going, exactly?"

Alfred glanced at her, then returned his eyes to the road ahead. "I was thinking about heading out west. We could go south for a while, should be able to lose whoever they might send after us. Maybe turn west after we get to Philadelphia. A lot of folks are heading west still, you know. They say there's a lot of land, if you can take it."

"I thought you didn't like the idea of turning to farming," Alice pointed out.

"I don't, but folk like that always have work for a blacksmith. Besides, you could do a lot of good, and once you're away from it all people don't ask too many questions, especially if you're saving their lives."

Alice worried her lip as they plodded along, the air growing cool as the sun disappeared. It was still spring yet, the snow was gone but the air was cool. It was true, neither would have a shortage of work if they tried to forge west. Secluded farmers and the like didn't often have the privilege of a doctor, and someone who went by nurse or midwife was often better than nothing. Besides, half her spells back in Salem had been to aid births and mend what could have been serious wounds. Not that they seemed to remember when the Magistrate pointed her out, anyway. And there was never any shortage of work for a skilled blacksmith, either. Even if it was basic mending or forging more bullets, it would be something. Better still, no one would know them. And once they got to one of the bigger cities it would be a simple matter to find someone willing to marry them.

"Do you really think we can make it to the west before winter sets in?" she asked after a long minute.

"Maybe. We should be able to reach Philadelphia or Baltimore, at least. We'd be far enough away by then, we could winter there, build up some extra money before we keep going. Once the snow starts to melt we can push west."

Alice hummed thoughtfully, eyeing the lantern. It didn't seem to be giving off enough light, at least not to her. "Can we stop for a moment?"

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just let me see the lantern."

Alfred looked confused, but he reined his mount to a stop, passing her the light. Alice stopped her own steed, then carefully took the contraption. She opened the little glass window, blowing out the small flame. Cupping the lantern's middle between her hands, Alice murmured a familiar spell, one that was among the first every magic worker learned.

It took a few seconds, but a warm yellow glow started to form inside the lantern. It was a solid ball at its center, growing until it filled the space. When Alice was satisfied with its size, she shut the door and handed it back to Alfred. The light it gave off now was brighter, stronger, steadier, and reached farther into the shadows.

Alice knew all too well that people feared magic, more often than not. Even when it was perking up a dying crop, or turning a babe so it wouldn't descend breech. It was why she worked to hide what little she did do. Alfred had never been that way, though. He seemed fascinated by magic, in wonder of it. Maybe it was because he'd never seen any of the black magic's at work, just Alice's wiccan spells, but still. It was part of what had made her fall for him over the years, the open wonder and admiration in his eyes when he saw her work, whether she was bringing a bed of flowers from the ground or making a simple witch light.

"Why don't you use these more? They put a little candle light to shame."

"You know why."

Alfred grimaced, but urged his horse onward again. "Folks are superstitious fools who won't bring their noses down long enough to see sense."

Alice fought back a yawn, shaking her head. "It won't make much difference now. It seems Salem was full of more lunatics than not. Everywhere else is more balanced. They'll be trying to burn down my house by now, I suppose."

The man glanced back at her. "Trying?" he repeated.

Chuckling, the witch admitted, "I'm afraid I got carried away with those fire wards. You know how I am in the kitchen, I couldn't have the place coming down around my ears, now could I? They're so strong on the kitchen they won't be able to singe that part. I put a few on the rest of the house, just to be safe, but depending on how persistent they are I'm not sure how well they'll hold up."

Alfred laughed. "What do you wanna bet they never go near the place again after that? Quarantine the witch's house?"

Alice felt her lips twitch. "I suppose. Quite a shame, really. I left lots of good books there."

"If we'd had time and one less mob, I could have gotten a cart," he admitted, sounding chagrinned. "Maybe brought Mathew and Gilberta with us. They were going to head for Boston before the week was out, anyway." He paused, then added, "I'm sorry about your books. I know what they meant to you."

Smiling faintly, Alice urged her mount alongside Alfred's. She reached out, and realizing she couldn't reach his cheek settled for resting a hand on his shoulder. "You did more than enough, love. Especially considering the circumstances. I can always get more books. Growing old with you is worth a dozen libraries."

She knew he was close to Mathew, just as she knew his sister-in-law would be targeted soon enough. Gilberta didn't have a single drop of magic in her veins, but she was a left-handed albino. The white skin and hair was bad enough, but red eyes? It was amazing they hadn't come for her already. She'd been hiding out in a hunting cabin for the last week as it was.

Alfred's face softened. He caught her hand, bringing her fingers to her lips. "Just you wait, if we settle somewhere, I'll get you a huge room full of all the books you could ever read."

He dropped her hand, urging the horse back into a brisk trot. Alice smiled, matching his pace. She was still acutely aware of the people on their tail who wanted her dead, preferably in a painful manner, but they didn't seem quite so threatening now. Soon enough they'd be hiding in civilization, well away from Salem and its bloodlust for witches. Better still, she could finally relax, could finally openly be with Alfred without fearing the town's wrath.

"Say, what would you think about going down the Mississippi? It would take a while on horseback, but it might be fun, and we'd have plenty of work. There's rumor of them sending expeditions down it, maybe trying to build a city at the bottom of it. Think about it, Ally, a port city that never sees snow!"

Alice chuckled softly. Alfred never did things halfway, it had to be said. "I thought you wanted to head west, love."

"We could do that too. See the Gulf, the swamps, then head up again to see mountains and deserts. They say this country has everything if you keep going far enough. You'd have to cross a dozen boarders to see all this back in Europe. We could do it all, there's nobody telling us we can't. What do you say, we see it all and carve out a place of our own wherever we like it best?"

"You realize that could take years?"

"That's the fun part, Ally!"

"We'll see if you're still saying that when we have children in tow."

"Huh. I haven't thought of that."

Alice smiled indulgently. That sounded about right. Alfred thought big, dreamed big, but sometimes he forgot about the details. Perhaps she should wait until later to mention there was a spell to hold off such things until they were ready.

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